


The Last Promise

by wynnebat



Category: Naruto
Genre: Dubious Morality, F/M, Loyalty, Minor Character Death, Murder, POV First Person, POV Original Character, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-05-25
Updated: 2009-05-25
Packaged: 2018-05-02 15:54:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5254259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wynnebat/pseuds/wynnebat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A hunter nin and two missing nin walk into a bar.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Last Promise

**Author's Note:**

> Except for some editing and the ending, this story was written back in 2009, before the Shippuden dub even aired in the US. Thus, the Third Hokage sends out an OFC hunter nin after a serial killer. At the time, I was in eighth-ninth grade and at the height of my Naruto obsession. I originally posted this over on Quizilla (now defunct), then on the Freedom of Speech/FOS-FF archive (also defunct), then on the Lunaescence Archive (still running, surprisingly, but I deleted my account on there ages ago). I'm still very fond of this thing. It's a bit ridiculous, but it was my longest project back then, and I had a bunch of fun writing it. But I do admit to cutting out 3k and changing most of the dialogue to something a bit less cringe-worthy! 
> 
> This story doesn't quite need the "wynnebat was an angsty teenager" warning, but really, please don't take my writing from nearly seven years ago too seriously.

I don't give out promises very easily. Because in my mind, once you give your word to someone, it's done. You can't take it back. You can't give up until everything has been carried out. Your mind has to be fully focused until you've completed your task. Your mind, body, and soul won't rest before you finish or you die.

I have given my word three times throughout my life.

My mother made me promise to always look out for my younger sister until she could protect herself. Before beginning my shinobi career, I had taught my sister everything she needed to know: how to throw a kunai, how to clone herself, how to protect herself; but also simpler, sisterly things such as which vegetables taste best and how to paint without ruining one's clothes.

My father had me vow to never use my bloodline for evil. I was very young and easily agreed.

My father taught me every shinobi tactic I know: how to run faster than the wind, how to walk on water, how to use my unique bloodline. He loved me and never pushed me too far. He was the prime example of a Konoha shinobi: kind but deadly. I was his only student, his greatest prize. I was valued by him above any other living being, save for other close friends and family.

He could ask me to jump, I would ask how high. I was his loyal daughter, and that was how I first didn't notice his intentions.

As I grew older, my powers grew. My bloodline shone in my eyes and hair, my limbs were graceful and lithe. I was young, loyal, and lethal. In anyone's eyes, I was the perfect weapon.

His view of me changed as well. I could bring him anything he wanted, I could capture his dreams out of the sky and make them real. Father knew I would never betray him. Who would I be to do such a thing?

I was happy with my life. I delivered documents to faraway places, I brought back packages home. I gave him everything. I held no secrets from him. I barely knew was and had no reason for it anyways. Curiosity never got the best of me and I never opened his packages and letters. I was the picture of innocence, the bright and happy girl.

But that couldn't last forever, could it? I don't blame anyone. My knowledge of his actions was accidental. I dropped a package in a lake; the wrappings grew soggy and fell away. I left my room too late; his voice was just a little too loud.

My mother and sister saw the difference in him long before I did. They started to depend on each other more than me or him. They saw him buy groceries and compared him to the men passing by. Was he more like the drunk man down the street? Was he like the man who left bruises on his wife's arms? Or did he resemble the man who was always plotting, the one with a secret agenda?

It turned out to be the third guess; the one we wished could leave our minds. I had realized his intents just in time. What if I had found out later? A year, a week, a day? The deed would be done and I would still be blind and deaf. Ironic, since my father's blood ran in my veins, and thus my hearing was far better than average.

My father betrayed his village, his country, his leader. He plotted the death of our third Hokage with a small group of shinobi. It was all in return for a position of leadership in the Village of the Gray Sky.

Despite everything he had, he took to a life of crime.

He had family here. He had a life. He had me.

That's when I realized when someone went bad, it was permanent. They killed themselves with greed for power and riches. They were evil. My young mind couldn't imagine it. I hadn't known what I was supposed to do. Tell someone? Who? I wasn't close with any academy teachers.

But I couldn't let the Hokage die. That was all I could think of. My father, as much as it pained me to say it, was a bad person. The Hokage was a good one, a kind one. I made an appointment with him. When I was asked why, I said I was curious about something in the academy textbooks.

I can remember it as though it were only yesterday.

I stepped into the Hokage's office, hands already shaking. His room was bright and cheerful. There was an open window with birds singing and flying through the sky.

He smiled at me. "What is the matter, young one?"

That was all it took for the dam to break. Tears came out without anything to stop them and I started to talk. I told him everything. I told him of the explosive powder he had been smuggling into Konoha. I replayed the conversation with the foreign shinobi, of the riches he would obtain for his task.

Sometime in that hour I spent in his office, crying against his shoulder, he called for a white-haired man. His name was Kakashi Hatake, as I later found out. Hatake and a team of men came to my father and found all I said to be true. He was shot in his own house.

People said he deserved it. I didn't say anything. For the next months, I walked with my head down. Ordinary citizens knew nothing and gave me glances of pity. I was the girl whose father had died. Experienced shinobi were told of the real events. They smiled at me. Some even looked at me with gratitude, as though it was an honorable thing to betray one's father.

Afterwards, I flew through the academy, unable to satisfy myself with simply knowledge. I needed to see the world. I needed to understand how he could do such a thing. I grew powerful, I graduated, and yet I never quite understood.

I was given missions and completed them quickly. I fully mastered my bloodline and learned even more techniques. I was valued by something more than my father: by the entire village. But I had a second motive, too. I didn't want to live with my mother and sister. Their pain was different from mine. They grieved of his death, I grieved of my actions. For the longest time, I was ashamed.

People died and were born while I took missions and grew. The entire Uchiha clan was wiped out, a tragedy unlike any other in the village's history.

I was given one task. It didn't faze me that my hands would get dirty. I knew, for the sake of so many people, that one person had to die.

I, Mori, vow to eliminate Uchiha Itachi from the face of this planet.

.

The bar was clean enough, in my professional opinion. Professional because I have been in so many of these throughout my lifetime that I've lost track of the many times men have mistook me for an actual adult. I first entered a seedy tavern at fifteen and would have been scarred for life if I was a weaker person. They were usually filled with angry drunks, leering bartenders, portly men with their hands in places I barely had at that time.

Why was I in here? The answer was simple enough. Two travelers had entered this town last week. They wore coned straw hats and black cloaks with red clouds outlined in white. I could never figure out why the Akatsuki wore such conspicuous outfits. Were they so sure of their secrecy, that no one would know who they were?

I suppose they had a right to be overconfident. This was not a shinobi village; no one had recognized them anyways. No one but me.

According to the carpenter's son, who didn't mind revealing information after a few drinks, they came here a few nights a week to chat. After more sake, I was told they would occasionally steal glances at a businessman with a red tie. The older gentleman was here now and well on his way to a hangover. I suspected that his worries were getting the best of him. Did he fear for his life? I would too, if I knew I was being stalked by two unknown travelers. Except I always did the stalking, not Itachi or Kisame.

Or maybe the man knew nothing. Maybe he didn't notice his secret admirers. Maybe he was caught up in the darker side of trade without any fear of the consequences. The Akatsuki wanted world domination, the control of all lands. If any certain trade of weapons got too powerful or far-reaching, they quietly assassinated all men related to the trade.

That is how I find my two future victims. By the more or less figurative trail of blood.

I sat on a fairly sticky stool with my legs crossed, trying to keep my thighs from touching the surface. I didn't want to find out what had been spilled there. I was completely fine with keeping my lunch inside my stomach.

Two of my favorite men choose this time to walk into Takeshi's Tavern. Their straw hats were on, but I know every detail of their faces anyway. Blue skin resembling a shark's with dark hair. Long black hair in a ponytail, pale skin, and dark eyes. They were a fearsome pair when challenged.

I didn't bother trying to duck down as they walked to a nearby corner. I knew I didn't have the element of surprise; it was impossible to fool an Uchiha. He could sense my chakra from a mile away, just as I could easily hear him in a faraway motel bed, not sleeping all night. I could hear his ever muscle moving, his pointer finger lifting towards my own room on the other side of the village. I knew where he was; he knew where I was. (Sometimes, I wondered if this was why no one had ever been bothered to give me missions so far away. My bloodline wasn't one that inspired a feeling of safety in most.)

I walked over to their small table.

"Hello fellow travelers! What can I get you? The special this lovely evening is chopped and boiled shark on a stick and Sharingan eye soup. If you pay a little extra, I'll even throw in some Uchiha fingers to the mix." I sat down in and empty chair across from the pair. They didn't even look surprised to see me. Such a shame. Were they really that used to my voice?

Kisame didn't raise his hat to look at me. "What do you want?"

I didn't miss a beat. "Your partner's life, but I don't mind taking yours as well. What do you say? Deal?"

Some people would consider this suicide, but this was actually a weekly occurrence. The three of us really weren't that different. I was a very compartmentalized person: work was work and rest was rest. If I bothered them, they couldn't work, so they would rest. Besides, if one of them pulled a kunai out, a civilian was bound to notice. And for all its insanity, Akatsuki usually tried to avoid mass slaughter of civilians. Bad for business and all.

"Itachi, wanna say anything in your defense? That I'm too weak to kill you and all?" I glanced over at him, making sure to keep my eyes away from his. Tsukuyomi wasn't a pleasant romp in the park, and I'd only been under it a couple weeks ago.

He finally raised his eyes to my face, and I was relieved he wasn't in a murderous mood just yet.

Uchiha Itachi was quite handsome, if you cared enough to look. He had sharp facial lines and a slightly pointed chin. The chin would look girly in most cases, but he managed to pull it off. His mouth was always pointed downwards into a frown; he never listened when I told him to put it upside down. He wore an interesting necklace and his forehead protector showed off his status as a missing nin.

I could see why some women might find it easy to want to pull off his clothes. Sometimes, when I'd had too much to drink, I wondered how his lips would feel on my own. In the morning, I felt vaguely ashamed and tired of the obsession this mission obligated me to have. In any case, for as long as I'd known him, Itachi had never succumbed to anyone's charms. He had better things to do, such as plotting the brutal murder of a certain businessman with a red tie.

I sighed as I looked at him. Still the same unwelcoming aura and the frown. "Busy stalking people again? You know, obsession isn't really good for your mental states."

Crimson blood was already trailing down my arm by the time I finished my sentence.

"If you tip him off, you'll have more than only stalking to deal with," Itachi replied, his voice quiet.

I shrugged. "He's expendable."

It was the truth. There wasn't much the Hokage wouldn't give to have one of his most embarrassing missing nin put down. A handful of civilians were only collateral damage. And I had no doubt that whatever his occupation, it wasn't Konoha-sanctioned if it had gotten him in contact—and trouble—with Akatsuki.

"Just remembered why I like you," Kisame said, his teeth gleaming sharp and white as he smiled.

Then Kisame quickly averted his eyes form our table and to another. "He's here."

"Ahh," I muttered. "Our poor, unsuspecting victim."

Kisame chuckled. "I doubt he's as helpless as you make him out to be. He got tipped off a few days ago about some shady characters following him around."

"I do my part." Usually, it didn't help, but I did try. There were enough deaths on my conscience. I tried to prevent more.

The man in the red tie stood up, wobbling a little from the alcohol. Just as he walked through the aisle and out the old wooden doors, the pair of evildoers stood up as well. I followed them out of the pub and into the fresh evening air.

Kisame looked back at me. "I'll take him. Deal with our own stalker, Itachi."

"Don't want to fight me? Lazy, lazy," I said, shaking my head.

Kisame snorted. "If I had to deal with you as often as Itachi does, you'd be dead within days." With that remark, he left.

The houses on both sides had no lights on and the road was wide. The perfect fighting arena. Itachi turned to face me, just as he had every week for the past years. Our game was simple. If I wounded him enough, the victim would live. If I was found the next morning almost at Satan's doorstep, the victim would be there next to me. If anyone asks, I can't remember anything.

He stood straight with the sunset behind him. The battle had begun. Would I win? Would I lose? It was all up to fate and harsh training and preparation.

A light flickered on and off as my opponent took the customary Uchiha fighting stance. The lights came on again as he rushed towards me, a kunai in his hand. A child's face appeared in a window as I closed my eyes and unleashed my kekkei genkai.

I could hear the little boy's quiet breathing as I once again blocked Itachi's kunai with one of my own. I could hear the little boy's mother treading downstairs to find her son. In a moment she would see the scene we had already caused, and that was only with taijutsu.

I wasn't proud of what I did. I wasn't happy to fight a criminal out in the open, where a civilian could get caught in the crossfire. But my task wasn't to shield humanity's eyes from violence. I was to stop this member of the Uchiha clan at any cost. If it meant I would scar battles into a child's mind, so be it.

I was focused on the fight, but not altogether oblivious to my surroundings. I wouldn't destroy homes if I could help it.

Itachi's calves flexed slightly, and I blocked his kick in the milliseconds following the muscle contraction. He tried again, this time with his right arm as I blocked it with my shoulder and hit his kneecap in the same movement.

As I jumped out of the way, his left arm struck my shoulder and I hoped it would be the end of hand to hand combat. I was strong, but this man had his genius brain and years of fighting experience on me. I couldn't argue that his punches hit harder than my kicks, even though my speed and hearing canceled out his ability to read an opponent's movements.

In a few simple hand movements, the earth vanished from under his feet and his balance faltered for a simple moment. That was enough for me to kick his chest and return to my initial fighting stance.

Any other man would have fallen flat on his back, but not this criminal. He had the endurance of an animal and enough muscles to run a marathon without stopping.

I could hear his hands moving, the bones spelling out a fairly complex fire jutsu. I knew what was coming ahead of time, having fought him before. But like his reaction to my earth technique, I couldn't stop blazing fire from wrapping itself around my wrists, binding my hands behind my back.

We each knew what symbols our fingers had made, but no human or god could ever get away fast enough to remain unscathed.

My wrists were beginning to burn, and his arm hit my chest in the same spot where mine had hit his. Even with my hands bound, my legs made a final attempt to kick his shins to buy time.

If he waited a little bit longer, my charka would quench the fire and I would be free. I was bloody and bruised, but would not lose just yet.

Itachi had enough sense to attack again and I spat blood this time; his arm had almost punctured my ribcage. I fought back as best as I could; taijutsu was our most frequently used technique.

And there! I was free from the band, but not in time. His palm hit my forehead, and I knew our encounter was over. I fell to the ground in front of his eyes, hating the victorious smirk on his face.

I knew it was the only reason he kept me around. I was the only one who dared to fight him, the only one who might one day win. Once every few encounters I get close to concluding my task. He eventually ran out of chakra, but I lost too much blood to battle further. Neither of us could continue, but we were too proud to fall to the ground. Kisame usually came in at this time to get his comrade.

Today wasn't one of those days though; today I lost. It was a bad feeling, knowing he was standing next to me, keeping me waiting. Would I die today? Whenever I usually lost, he would stand beside me for a few minutes.

I had no doubt he was contemplating on whether to kill me, to end these frequent battles. But he never threw a kunai down, and for that I was grateful. I was not delusional enough to think he kept me alive because he had become attached to me.

But I think there was something there, something that stayed his hand on days like this. Perhaps his life would be too bland without me. After all, what else was there to do for him? Kill random people, travel with his friend, kill some more. It would get boring after a while. I could understand the need for some amusement in life.

It would be his downfall, and we both knew it. One day, I would kill him, or he would kill me. One day, someone will go just a little too far. One day, a village might not have a doctor or nurse.

It was quite comfortable on the ground. I had ceased to feel any pain, or anything for that matter. I opened my eyes and actually saw him for the first time since leaving the café. My bloodline had weakened, but I knew from experience that he didn't have very much chakra or energy left.

The sky was a little blurry, but I could see little yellow stars in the night sky. Itachi's face was up there as well; I could see him staring at me. I would say something, insult him, aggravate him, but my mouth was too dry to attempt it.

"Itachi!"

Ahhh, Kisame was here. I could almost hear his footsteps. My hearing seemed to have faded a little.

"I got him a while ago. Losing your touch? Your battle took ages."

Then the man did something unusual: I got picked up and slung over his shoulder. At least he didn't have fish scales all over his back. Or if he did, I was too numb feel them.

"What are you doing?" My voice came out raspier than I had expected and too low for them to hear me properly, but it wasn't hard for the idiots to guess the general directions of my thoughts.

"We need you to find someone. With your bloodline, he won't be able to hide much longer. Besides, it's in your best interests to help us. After all, whoever's betrayed Konoha is your enemy, right? And our dear friend isn't exactly popular there."

Itachi hadn't said a word since we had started walking to their motel room. I looked at him curiously, just realizing I could move my neck a little. I doubted he liked this plan.

If I could talk, I'd ask them why they bothered coming to me for help. They could find the elusive criminal on their own. There was no way I would agree to work with them.

We entered the motel and the manager looked the other way as we trudged up the stairs. The fearsome couple had already scared him to half death. He wouldn't interfere, even to save a poor girl from a violent death. Or maybe he thought I was already dead, and they were dragging my corpse in for the most evil of experiments.

Itachi unlocked the door and opened it for Kisame and me.

I was practically unconscious as he threw me onto the bed, not taking heed of my injuries. As I fell into a deep slumber, the last thing I was aware of was Itachi reprimanding Kisame, saying they couldn't afford to kill me.

.

It was the sunlight that really woke me up. I'd come close to opening my eyes a few times, but they just didn't want to open. I stretched my arms out above my head, mentally cursing the idiot who left the blinds open. If it was Kisame, I was going to strangle him.

I swung my legs over the bed, groaning. It was way too early to deal with the dirty motel sheets, with Kisame's bad guy catching plan, with the bloodstained bandages on my chest, arms, and legs.

There was another bed in the room and its sheets weren't wrinkled the slightest. I only saw a pile of clothes on it. I grinned. Kisame obviously had to sleep on the floor, as I had taken his bed. He should have just pushed me onto Itachi's place. The black-haired prince didn't sleep anyways.

Wiping sleep out of the corner of my eyes, I trudged to the tiny bathroom located in the right-hand corner of the room. The bathroom was tiny, with barely any space between the toilet, sink, and shower.

After relieving myself, I shed my clothes and stepped into the shower space, wishing I had some slippers and a bathrobe. The curtain had been pulled off by previous renters and there was a ball of gunk and hair by the drain. The ingredients to get warts on the bottom of your feet and mutated eyes on your back.

I tried my best not to gag as I turned the slippery knob and waited for hot water to leak out. I wasn't surprised to find that the cold water refused to get warmer. Taking a block of soap from the holder, I slathered the awful stuff on my body.

Thankfully Itachi hadn't made very deep wounds last night, whether it was by chance or choice. Had he known about Kisame's plans for me and purposely laid off the extreme hits? I wouldn't put it past him. My bruises, on the other hand, were dark and painful.

Since there wasn't any shampoo or conditioner, I just tried my best to wash my hair with soap, wishing for my belongings. They were packed in a motel in a neighboring village, unfortunately.

After washing all soap off myself, I took the towel off the hook and dried myself off. Then I grabbed my clothes and washed them, relieving them of blood and dirt. I couldn't do anything for the tears, but by the end, they looked mostly wearable. One small wind jutsu later, they were wearable, if very chilly.

It occurred to me that I hadn't seen or heard my temporary captors at all. Where was the infamous duo? I listened to the voices in the hotel's front room. Not there. I couldn't hear them throughout the whole village, meaning they were either gone or not speaking. The first option wasn't possible, while the second was entirely plausible. They needed me for something so they couldn't leave, but neither of them talked much. In theory, I could delve deeper and track them by their breathing patterns—Kisame's was particularly distinctive—but the situation wasn't dire enough yet.

I walked out of the motel and into the sunlight without any major problems. The man behind the desk had looked happy to see me alive; I'd looked a mess the last time he saw me.

It made me smile, the way the sun's rays hit my face, the way little children would run around carelessly. I finally gave in and could feel my bloodline activating and searching, measuring heartbeats and muscle contractions. They were in a nearby café and I sensed their movements. Kisame sat across from Itachi and they were simply waiting for something. I decided that something was likely me.

"Morning," I chirped, ordering an omelet with my next breath. Glancing over at their plates, it looked like they'd been there for a while now. But they only had themselves to blame. Itachi had been the one to tire me out.

"Have you thought about our offer?" Kisame jumped straight to the point, not bothering to butter me up first.

I rolled my eyes. "The one where I help out two mass murderers? My answer's no."

Kisame tried another approach, since that answer didn't suit him. "Why not? This is a criminal on the Hokage's hit list and you'd be doing the world a favor by eliminating him."

I leaned in, narrowing the little space between us down to two inches. "Do you really think I care? I'm not here to rid the world of evil or assassinate any shinobi that has betrayed my village. My task is simple: kill the guy sitting next to me. Until I do that, I'm not going anywhere. I don't want to help you two since there have to be ulterior motives."

In normal people, certain muscles twitched when they told a lie. But in natural born liars and S-class bad guys, those muscles don't move the slightest. I never knew when they lied which in turn made making deals so much harder. I couldn't trust them.

There was also no reason for me to help them. Why risk my life to help my enemies? They wouldn't do the same for me.

Kisame looked like he could argue all morning until Itachi rose a hand to silence him. "What do you want? Everyone has a price."

I placed my elbows on the table and tried my best to glare at his nose. It wasn't working as well as I'd hoped. Giving in and deciding they seemed to need me too much to torture me into insanity with Itachi's eyes, I looked into his dark eyes with a proper glare. "The only thing I want is your life, but something tells me you aren't going to give it up easily."

"The man we are looking for is Orochimaru. I have no doubt that you have heard of him," Itachi stated. He looked annoyed to be giving me information.

I stared at him. "Why do you need Orochimaru?"

"He is interfering with the Akatsuki's plans. We would like him dead," Kisame concluded, and I knew I wouldn't get an answer better than that. Evildoers were always secretive.

"Interesting," I murmured, my mind running far ahead of me. My primary task was to kill Itachi, but... Orochimaru was a missing nin who experimented on innocent people. If working with Itachi meant he died, I would do it. And this explained why they needed me. In the last few months, after his banishment from the Akatsuki, Orochimaru had gone to ground completely.

Itachi inclined his head. "Yes. We could find him on our own, but it would take months. If our knowledge of your bloodline is correct, you could find him in a matter of weeks."

It wasn't a terrible situation. There would be a dead missing nin at the end of the journey either way: either Orochimaru, or Itachi, if the journey caused him to relax his guard. But it meant I would be in danger as well.

I looked over at the men next to me and wondered if I would be able to live long enough to get rid of Itachi. There was only one way to find out.

"I'm in. With one condition: we go and grab my belongings first."

Itachi rose from his stool as soon as I'd agreed to their idea. "Let's go."

We walked through the streets and I saw a few heads turn. I wasn't surprised; we made a strange trio. Two men in black and red cloaks with coned straw hats. One had a huge package in the form of a fat sword and a blue face; the other had a more pleasant appearance yet an unwelcoming aura. Then there was me, a young woman tagging along slightly behind them.

"So how long did you two search before begging for my help?" I asked as we passed the most crowded areas and headed towards the dusty main road. The forest soon closed in on us and I wondered if they had made the plan to get me alone and dead. We began to run, nearly flying through the trees.

Neither man answered, but I decided to assume it had been an embarrassingly long time. Actually, maybe it wasn't such a good idea to tease them now. My neck was still in reach. But if I spent this entire journey walking on eggshells, stress would kill me faster than Itachi could.

Within the hour, we were able to pick up my things. I felt safer with the rest of my weapons on my body. And, I was ready to change into some truly clean clothes at the end of the day.

I was happy to carry out my end of the bargain. I sat onto my bed and settled into a meditative posture. Then, I let my bloodline run free. Most of the world didn't matter. I ignored the farmers, the merchants, the children. I ignored most civilians. I ignored my own family back in Konoha. It took nearly another hour, but finally, I was able to say, "I've found him. We'll go north."

"Good," Kisame said.

Itachi only quirked his lip in something resembling a smile. I was stunned to find my heart skip a beat. I'd never seen him give anything near a smile, and this… This was something I would refuse to think about.

.

Outside, the weather was somewhat chilly. Not even our fast running speed was enough to ignore the fast slide into winter. We ran through the afternoon, the evening, and the early night, only taking some stops in between. With regret, it was me who held them back; I was only a jounin running with two S-class shinobi. I simply wasn't at their level yet.

I had a feeling they would be happy to run for a couple more hours, but I categorically refused. I needed sleep, food and a warm shower. I hadn't signed up for this missing nin life. I steered them more northwest than north, and although Kisame rolled his eyes at me, neither man argued. Up ahead, my bloodline brought sounds of people quieting down for the night and children brushing their teeth and wishing their parents goodnight from here. I refused to feel regret for bringing missing nin to their quiet town. Neither Itachi nor Kisame were complete psychopaths. They wouldn't kill indiscriminately, I hoped.

The forest soon thinned out and we entered a field of farmland. I found a path, not wanting to run over stalks of corn. The area's buildings were sparse and were mostly family-occupied homes.

"There's a motel up ahead," Itachi told me, nodding at a mostly empty street. At my questioning look, he described the hit he and Kisame had taken out here a couple months ago.

The man behind the front desk looked a little suspicious of us, but allowed us to enter. He did remind us not to cause any trouble, to which I answered, "We're completely respectable travelers, sir."

Kisame snorted and Itachi's emotionless face nearly gained a bit of warmth. I didn't know when it had become so imperative for me to see him smile fully, unlike the tiny one I'd seen, but it was a strong urge.

The man showed us to our rooms and left without another word. I took the one in the middle, leaving the others to do what they wished. The rooms were barely the size of closets, I realized as I walked inside. There was a single bed to the left, meeting the wall on one side and a small dresser on its other side. But the room did have a bathroom, and it was my first stop.

Afterwards, I fell into the bed. My weapons were within arm's reach. My chakra supply wasn't depleted. And yet, as tired as I was, I felt too nervous to sleep. Neither Itachi nor Kisame were known to kill people while they slept and they hadn't hurt me the first night, but… I felt like a terrible shinobi to even take the chance.

Tossing and turning, I finally increased my chakra supply into my bloodline, needing to see where Itachi and Kisame were. Kisame's room was to my right and Itachi's was to my left, but to my surprise, the plan of Itachi's room was the opposite of mine. His bed was on the other side of this flimsy plater wall. The thought didn't fill me with any more confidence.

I touched the wall, feeling its coarse plaster under my skin. Just a foot away was Itachi, and I felt… strange. The knowledge had settled underneath my skin, not leaving my mind. And not out of fear.

As my hand left the wall, Itachi spoke. "Sleep. We have a long run tomorrow."

I huffed a bit of a laugh. Really, to think I was being lectured by a missing nin. "Are you going to sing me a lullaby?"

After a pause, Itachi hummed the first couple notes of a bawdy bar song about a woman who stood at the top of the world, and died in her sleep.

"Arse," I muttered, but soon I fell asleep.

.

As we ran through yet another forest the next day, Itachi was still on my mind, like a tiger burrowing his claws into my mind.

I hadn't known him when we both lived in Konoha. Our families rarely crossed paths, and when they did on their way to the flower shop, there was only a simple 'excuse me' exchanged. I wondered what he'd been like. If he'd been as quiet, as strange. But that didn't matter. Itachi was a completely different man now; the kind of man who killed without hesitation. The kind of man who murdered his entire clan.

He was less brusque on this journey than any time I'd known him, answering many of the questions I posed to him. I didn't talk about anything too revealing—I knew our limits—but it surprised me, how much he said. I knew his favorite food. (Sadly, poisons weren't my strong suit.) I knew a couple stories from the many countries he'd visited. And, days later, I knew I wouldn't kill him on this journey. I didn't wrestle with the decision, simply accepting it as fact. One missing nin would already die. Itachi would take his turn later.

I was getting used to this arrangement. It didn't feel like I was doing anything wrong, that I was aiding the man I was supposed to kill. Somehow, I found a little piece of belonging in the two weeks it took us to travel. I'd never encountered anything like it outside Konoha.

I'd never trust it, but it was nice.

.

"The village is an hour's run north," I observed as it became dark one day. "Last one there must admit their most embarrassing story!"

I sped ahead, channeling as much chakra as I dared into my already tired muscles. For a moment, I feared neither would follow. But soon enough, Itachi sped past me, while Kisame lagged a little behind. But by the end, I realized I shouldn't have goaded him. When we came to the village gates, Itachi and Kisame were a few meters ahead of me.

Bound by my own promise, I shared something almost as close to my heart as a village secret: the first time I'd tried to flirt with a mark on a mission. It hadn't gone well, in the sense that within minutes, I'd stabbed the mark, and my squad had never trusted me to seduce someone again.

"You're almost as bad as Itachi," Kisame mused.

"At least I've gotten laid in the past year," I said. And then, glancing at him, I explained, "Not a stalker! But my bloodline centers on people I track, and, well, things like that come up."

"I'd rather not speak of this," Itachi muttered.

Kisame's laughter followed us into the motel. He even suggested we share a room, but we declined.

.

Days passed, mostly uneventful.

"Itachi, Kisame, we need to talk," I told them, stopping and leaning against an oak tree. I slid down until I was sitting on the ground. I was pretty tired after running so much. After the first time the three of us raced, it had become a daily occurrence. Each time we ran longer and faster. Sometimes I won; sometimes I got in second or third place.

They stood across from me, leaning against their own respective trees.

"There's a good-sized spa and relaxation town just ahead. A few miles north is the Sound Village. There are about two hundred shinobi inside its walls. I can't tell if they have any special qualities from this distance, but many have probably been used as test subjects. They could be pretty strong and will almost certainly object to us storming in. Do you have a plan other than simply bashing heads?"

"Where is Orochimaru?" Itachi asked.

I knew without even having to focus. Over the past few weeks, Orochimaru's particular signature had become a fixed spot in my head. It was a little revolting when he did his experimentation, but ultimately useful.

"He's inside his office at the center of the village right now. But…" I considered the situation thoughtfully. "If we go in at night, his home is closer to the edge of the village. And if we fight really, really quietly, perhaps no one will even come to see the disturbance."

"That'll never happen," Kisame said.

I had to agree. "As long as the fight with Orochimaru ends quickly, the three of us should be able to get out of there alive afterwards." My running speed had really improved, I could admit.

"We could take them on." Even Kisame's sword seemed to vibrate with anticipation. "We haven't had a proper battle in too long."

Itachi hummed. "Orochimaru will be difficult enough to take down. But I agree—fleeing may not be an available path."

I nodded. "Many will likely be weak from experimentation or unstable. Winning is possible, if not assured."

The next couple of hours went similarly as we strategized how to use our talents best. We'd never worked together like this, but after years of fighting against each other, we knew one another's skills nearly as well as true comrades.

But Orochimaru was a workaholic, and eventually, we could plan no more. Kisame decided to enter into the neighboring town for dinner, while I found myself at a loss for what to do. For the past couple weeks, my only activities had been running and talking. I couldn't even copy Kisame; I had eaten on the way, and unlike Kisame, I hated fighting on a full stomach.

Itachi seemed to be in a similar situation. But not quite, because he was staring at me with an expression I couldn't truly read. He wasn't angry. He wasn't impatient. He wasn't amused. I'd seen his face go through a kaleidoscope of emotions in our time together—a time that would soon end, I thought, a spike of sadness going through my chest—but this was new.

By now, I could admit I liked it when he looked at me, when he paid attention to my words and actions. It was pure folly. I had no excuse.

As if making up his mind, Itachi shoved himself off the tree he'd been resting against. He stalked toward me until he was close enough to touch.

For a moment, I thought he'd gone mad.

But he didn't try to kill me as he got closer. He did something worse, something I was powerless to go against: he kissed me. Itachi captured my mouth passionately, and in return I took his, wrapping my arms around his neck.

Somewhere in the back of my mind, a voice told me I should be careful. I squashed those thoughts and completely stopped thinking, letting myself be engulfed in emotions. There was a yearning inside of me to pull him even closer, to push myself against his strong chest.

The kiss was powerful and possessive. And I knew I liked it. This didn't compare to any kiss I had ever received.

"Mori," he growled, pronouncing my name in a possessive manner. "You have no idea what you do to me."

"Same goes for you," I replied when he finally released me.

But coming up with words brought back my sanity, and I felt shock work its way through me. What had happened? I had just kissed the man I want to kill. But no, that wasn't right. I had just kissed the man I used to want to kill. Now, the only thing I wanted was more.

This time, I pulled him into a kiss. His eyes opened wider and I smiled into the kiss. Who knew something could surprise the great Itachi? Then he closed his eyes and kissed me back. My skin burned wherever he touched me, and my body couldn't have enough of his steady caress.

It was a strong infatuation building up inside me, and if I were in my right mind, I would be scared it would lead into love. I was a complete fool. He was probably toying with my emotions, I told myself. But could such passion be faked? Itachi was never truly emotional. And this… It was stunning, the amount of emotion in Itachi's kiss. Itachi had never been one to fake emotion. This was real.

But soon enough, I heard Kisame nearing our camp, and pulled away.

"Itachi…" I began, but had no idea what I could say.

I needed to know everything. How he felt, when it had begun, what he wanted. But Kisame was nearly here, and Itachi minutely shook his head.

"After," he told me.

I nodded.

Before Kisame could begin eating his meal, my awareness of Orochimaru shifted.

"He's leaving the village," I muttered, my voice shocked. All our plans had just collapsed in the dust. But… "His squad's small, only six shinobi. If we intercept them—"

"Come on," Kisame said, looking mournfully at his meal, but leaving it behind.

He and Itachi had already sprung up, and I joined them, running in the general direction of Orochimaru's party. We had to meet them, but not too soon. We needed to be out of range of the village. Some miles passed like that, until Orochimaru's squad stopped in a field at the base of a large hill.

"They've sensed us," I murmured. We'd lost the element of surprise.

"We didn't need it anyway," Kisame said.

I wondered what it was like, to be S-ranked and powerful enough not to worry about Orochimaru. But living and breathing with two S-ranked nin for the past couple weeks had given me enough complexes. I put those thoughts out of my mind and focused on my mission.

We came to a stop a few yards away from Orochimaru, and even Kisame looked wary as they faced us.

"Itachi, Kisame," Orochimaru said. "And… Mori, the famous Konoha hunter nin. Interesting company you keep."

"Yours is much more interesting," I told him, my eyes on one of Orochimaru's in. "Klin. You decided to defect?"

"The pay was better," the former Konoha ninja said, taking out his sword.

The Hokage would be so disappointed in him, I thought, and pulled out my own. But even as I thought it, I realized I finally knew at least one reason why people deserted: love. Instead of picking apart the emotions in my chest, I gripped my sword tighter. I would deal with this with blood, first. I had better things to do than fall in love.

"We're here on the behalf of Akatsuki," Itachi said, ignoring the rest of us. "Pein isn't pleased with you."

"Pein isn't pleased with anyone. I can't see why you're still kissing his boots."

Kisame smiled. It wasn't a nice smile. "We'll show you."

And the battle began.

I didn't bother laying a single kunai on Orochimaru, choosing to let the S-class shinobi sort out their own fights. Instead, I shot out and took down the closest regular shinobi, beheading her within seconds. The ones around me startled, and the fighting began in earnest. It was three against one, since Orochimaru cared more for Itachi—something about eyes, I heard him yell, but didn't pay attention—and Kisame took down another, dividing his attacks between Orochimaru and the others.

I sparred with Klin, the motions instinctual. I'd trained with him a couple times. I'd thought him a good fighter, and attractive. Perhaps I was just attracted to traitors.

But unlike Itachi, I could deal with this problem by killing him, and I did. Not without injury—my shoulder would take weeks to heal the stab wound he gave me—but I watched him die with satisfaction. One down.

Two more went down in the next twenty minutes, and when I looked around to see how I could help with Orochimaru, I saw Itachi cast the killing blow.

Our task was done, I thought as he met my eyes. This was it. This was the end of the easy comradery built between us. But it wasn't the last I'd see him.

Kisame took this time to clean the blood from his sword, muttering angrily about the gunk leaving stains, but Itachi had only eyes for me. His clothes were spattered in blood as he walked toward me and I saw cuts on his body, too.

"Congratulations," I said, nodding over at Orochimaru's corpse.

"Thank you," he replied.

I wondered if he was at as much of a loss as I was. But before everything ended, there was one thing I still needed to do. I closed the final steps between us and kissed him once more. There was blood on my lips—not my own—but its taste faded as we kissed.

Itachi was the first to pull away. "I doubt you'll join us."

I shook my head. This may have been love, but as I looked at him, I realized I could never be my father. I think he knew that, too. It was a revelation that settled my nerves.

"No. But I'll be seeing you anyway."

His eyes light, Itachi said, "I look forward to it."

And with that, I left them.

I gave my word. I will see Itachi dead. But in the in-between, after deadly fights and duties are momentarily put aside, I won't turn my cheek to another kiss, and more. My fate wasn't defined by my blood. Maybe, there would be a way to have this piece of happiness, of pleasure, and do my duty.

If it exists, I'll find it.

That's a promise.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Complete; no sequel planned.


End file.
